Well, it happened. Our cat Thomas got sick and died. We found him next to our front steps on Saturday. Baker and Noah were reasonably upset, but it wasn't heartbreaking or anything. Ben dug a hole in the backyard and put Thomas in a box down in the hole while the boys and I watched from the window. I never thought about how weird that must seem to someone who's never seen that before... why on earth would you put someone in the ground? So we talked about "dust to dust." I asked them each to say something nice about our cat and Baker, who was crying real tears, said, "He was a good cat and I loved him a lot." Noah, who was genuinely blue but playing it up majorly, said, "I'll miss his 'meows'." Then he made one of those nasty little comments evil-geniously designed to push the buttons of the listener (Baker). He said, "Mom, how many minutes until Kong dies? I want zero pets." Of course this upset Baker, who hadn't thought of the possibilty of his dog dying, too. But then Noah was back to "I love cats like Thomas!" And Baker wanted a new cat immediately.
Sooooo, our friends are moving away tomorrow and can't take their cat with them. His name is Bandit, he's older, fat, and lazy. He's beautiful, black and white with green eyes. Bandit needed a home and we needed a cat. So we brought him home today, and the boys have smiles again.